


Confession

by Supersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Year After Season5 Finale, Bottom Sam, Broken! Sam, Christmas, Dubious Consent, First Time, How to look at your brother, Humor, M/M, Sam came back wrong, Sibling Incest, Spit As Lube, Top Dean, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supersupernatural/pseuds/Supersupernatural
Summary: "Hey, Dean? You want to know why I left for Stanford?" Sam starts, while they are waiting for the ambulance."It's not funny, Sammy." Dean is covering his hands on Sam's, but the blood keeps soaking the cloth.Sam makes a weak smile, continues anyway...
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Confession

A thud coming from the kitchen wakes Dean up, following by a series of loud bang and smash, sounds like someone is having a fight there, uninvited, in the middle of the night.

"Go get Ben and wait outside, probably just some wild animal." when Lisa finally takes Dean's words in from deep sleep, Dean has already grabbed the gun from the drawer, and darted toward the kitchen.

He can see the silhouette of two men wrestling, both quick and well trained, both know his arrival even before he steps his foot in the kitchen. One of them uses Dean's pan — the one he makes the family fried eggs every morning — to knock the other one down, then darts right toward him with that pan as a shield. Gun in hand, pointing at that man, Dean doesn't fire a bullet.

His brain is short circuited by too many feelings and questions when he recognizes that man's face. For a second, he can't decide if it's an actual attack or an exaggerated big hug, but the next second, he gets the answer with his back hitting the ground and his left face receiving a heavy blow. Through blurred vision, he can see Sam picking up his gun from the floor and pointing it at him without any hesitation.

Again, the gun is never fired, because the next thing Dean see, is his brother being decapitated, head falling like a ball.

It has to be a dream. First of all, his brother sacrificed himself to save the world and should be in the cage with Michael and Lucifer right now.

Dean forces himself to look up, to identify the killer, regardless of whatever he just killed.

Another Sam?

Shape shifter? Demon? And if he spent the past one year praying that his brother would come back to him, he only meant one.

"I don't believe you! y... you let him kill you!" the other Sam seems really pissed at Dean, like he did something really bad. But really, what did he do? It's not like he wants to be killed. Before Dean knows, his right side of the face receives a blow, as heavy as the one on his left side, and that is all he needs to snap back to reality.

Dean knocks his head against Sam's, which was hit by a frying pan seconds ago. As Sam grunts and almost passes out, Dean notices that the decapitated Sam has disappeared, along with all those blood. Sitting on Sam's thighs and pinning his hands on either side of his head, Dean looks down and demands answer," What the fuck is going on?"

Sam is still a little out, and as if things are not bad enough already, there's a loud clang coming from the garage.

Oh, No! No! No! Not the car!!

Dean drags Sam up by the front of his plaid shirt, just in time to spot Impala racing away down the street. The screech of her tires is like the cry of her calling for help.

Now, Dean is ready to kill. Clenching his teeth, Dean repeats his question," What the fuck is going on?" 

Sam flinches a little, tries to put on his puppy dog eyes, but manages only a twitch on his lips. He answers anyway," In short? Right now, there are 62 pieces of Sam out there. I think I should get them back into my body? Or any one of our bodies?"

Awesome. Could their lives get more weird?

"THAT Sam probably is considering the Impala his own ca..."

"It's mine!"

"O...ka!" being dragged by Dean, Sam almost bites his own tongue, and he has to ask," Where are we going?"

"To get MY car back!" Dean is almost shouting. He says a brief goodbye to Lisa and Ben, something like "I'll be back soon" or "I'll call you later", which he doesn't really remember. Minutes later, he is racing Lisa's car with Sam in the shotgun.

Dean isn't too surprised that he feels free. The past year wasn't an apple-pie life to him at all. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night screaming, sometimes the feeling — the guilt, the regret, the loss, the pain, the emptiness — got so bad he almost missed his days back in hell, sometimes he simply didn't know who he was anymore.

"So, where are we heading?" Dean breaks the silence when he finally realizes that he doesn't have a direction. He misses his brother so much, that it takes some effort to keep his eyes off Sam, yet he still caught himself staring several times in the past five minutes.

"Same direction, three blocks away." Sam answers him simply, doesn't spare him a look.

Dean is just happy that Sam's back, and he has so many questions," When did you get back? And what happened? I mean... I get that there are your replicas out there? And you can sense them? How did that happen?"

"They are not my replicas, we are all a part of Sam. Some of them are dangerous to this world." there's an unnatural pause, then Sam continues," I woke up in your kitchen... how long has it been?"

"Almost a year."

Sam draws his eyebrows together. It seems to Dean that Sam's regretting something, which doesn't make sense.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Dean asks and can feel Sam freezing briefly, before he catching himself then relaxing, and they both know it's too late.

"No, I'm hiding something from you, and I'm not gonna tell you, so suck it."

Wow, this Sam is... straight forward. Dean is kind of expecting him to lie or give him silent treatment, now he is too impressed to get angry.

Dean follows Sam's instruction until they can see a bright motel neon sign from far away, and Sam says," he's there waiting... do you have any weapons in that car?"

"No? I'm out, remember?" Dean sold all their weapons after Sam's gone, only kept one that is stuck between his back and belt right now, figured he'd done those weapons a favor. He wouldn't have enough time to maintain them anyway.

"Good." Sam waves the knife in his hand.

Dean finally notices that Sam has the knife with him, and the fact that he decapitated another Sam with a kitchen knife. What a monster! Eyes on that knife, Dean asks," does it have to be this way?"

"Yes, they are dangerous, and in case you haven't realized yet, some of them want you dead badly." it hurts, but Dean surprises himself that he understands. He can't say he doesn't have the same part inside himself. It's like a self-defense mechanism.

The other Sam is waiting under the neon sign, behind a middle-aged man at whom he is pointing an ice picker. He is wearing a hoodie, looks like a younger version of Sam, and is visibly surprised to see Dean.

"Let's talk, OK? You don't need a hostage. Just tell us what you want." Dean parks the car a few feet away, before rushing out of it.

"You are the one chasing me." hoodie Sam shoots back," and leave. me. alone. I'm not going back to that body ever again, too many rules and morals in that nerd's head, can you believe he felt sorry for a turkey? A. turkey!"

Dean is slightly amused. If he had a change to peek through his brother's nerd head, he probably would say the same thing." Ok, I get it. So just go. No one's going after you. You have my word."

The Sam with Dean's kitchen knife in hand, standing on the other side of the car, glares at Dean, but doesn't say anything. Hoodie Sam looks between that Sam and Dean, then settles his eyes on Dean again," nah, changed my mind. You are coming with me."

"What? You want me?"

"Sure, big brother. You have no idea what I'm gonna do to you. I've wanted you way before I gave my first kiss. I've been thinking about you way before I touched any girl. I've been dreaming about you, and never stopped."

Good to know it's a two way street. Dean can't pinpoint when it started with him, maybe forever, because he never has a problem having sex with Sam, and can constantly feel the attraction toward Sam, although he never allows himself to think of his brother that way, and he gets laid often, so he wouldn't feel desperate.

If Sam wanted Dean as half badly as Dean wanted Sam, then he wouldn't have left Dean for Stanford, wouldn't have chosen any women over Dean, wouldn't have lived in a heaven without Dean.

Hoodie Sam stops Dean when Dean starts walking toward him, tilting his head to suggest that he wants Dean to kill another Sam," I'm not stupid. Kill him first."

"OK." Dean turns around with his back facing hoodie Sam, and gives the other Sam a wink, before taking the knife from his hand, then cutting his hand and pretending to kill him.

"Satisfied?" Dean turns back.

Hoodie Sam answers him by shoving the middle-aged hostage away, trotting to him, hands all over him while giving him a French kiss. Hoodie Sam's tongue is deep down Dean's throat, one hand propping Dean's chin, the other on Dean's buttock, groping, when the other Sam stabs him from behind. Hoodie Sam disappears with disbelief and hurt on his face.

Why does his brother keep killing himself before Dean? The feeling is awful, but the other Sam manages to make Dean feel more awful," There's your car, you can go home now."

"What? No! I'm coming with you."

"You are out, remember?"

"Oh, I'm back in! I'm not leaving my brother out there fighting alone."

"I won't be alone, I'll call Bobby for help. Just think about your family..."

"You are my family!" Dean snaps. Why is this Sam pushing Dean away while the other Sam just admitted he wants Dean? Dean can still taste Sam on his tongue." What is it with you? Keep pushing me away... if it weren't for you, I wouldn't've knocked on Lisa's door in the first place. I never wanted this. I was living a life for my brother who wanted an apple-pie life but couldn't have it, because he's dead!"

"No, you knocked on Lisa's door because you were tired of this life. You're just too self-loath to think you deserve this, but you have a life now. Lisa and Ben need you. You can't do this to them. You'll put them in danger."

"What about you!? You are just back from hell! You hate me that much that you'd rather be alone than having me with you!?" because Dean remembers his time back from hell, the first thing he wanted to do was get back to Sam who was bone deep inside that demon bitch and sucking her blood like a vampire. And now? When Sam's the one comes back from hell, he is caught up in his own fight, and doesn't give a damn about Dean.

The sound of a police siren is getting closer. The hostage must have called 911.

"Just... help me drive Lisa's car back." Dean tells Sam and leads the road in the Impala. He is speeding, checking the back mirror every once in a while to check if Sam is following, until he stops at a red light, and feels an impact that he thinks might be a car crash while bracing himself.

Dean feels a little dizzy when he gets out of the car. The Impala is thrown out of the drive way, and Lisa's car is unrecognizably damaged. Nothing else is attacking them. It's just a rear-end collision, and all Sam's fault. Dean is preparing every scolding line he could think of before he sees Sam face down in the driver's seat of Lisa's car. He opens the door, pulls Sam's back against the seatback, and gives him a quick body check: no serious injuries except some blood on Sam's forehead, and the wound isn't very deep.

Dean unbuckles Sam's safe-belt and tries to wake him up," Hey, Sammy, you OK? Can you hear me? Sammy."

Sam regains conscious with a grunt, takes a minute to recovery before he can register the meaning in Dean's words," Sammy you OK? What happened?"

"Guess there wasn't much nap time in the cage..." Sam slurs.

"OK... you are crushing in the guest room tonight." Dean tells Sam, helping him get out of the car and into the passenger seat of the Impala.

What Dean didn't see coming is that Lisa almost commits murder when she sees her car. They get into a fight, apparently Dean is not as fit in the normal life as he thinks he is, and he is gross, oh, and according to Lisa, everyone knows who has Dean's loyalty all along. Lisa literally kicks Dean's butt out of her front door, throws his belongings at him, dramatically, like she adopted a lost puppy and can't wait to give it back to its owner.

"See what you put me through?" Dean jokes with Sam while throwing his duffle bag into back seat, and receiving no reaction from Sam. He starts the car, checks on Sam," hey, you ok?"

To Dean's horror, he sees a drop of water falling from Sam's eye, and it immediately sets him in a state of panic.

Why the fuck is Sam crying?

Dean almost drives them right into a tree, before he makes a sharp turn to redirect the car. Enough car crash for one night!

Sam blinks some more tears out of his eyes like he can't help himself, voice cracking." I'm sorry. Dean... I'm so... so sorry...I was never meant to drag you back to... this..."

Dean takes it as a little right-out-of-the-cage break down, and murmurs to Sam," it's ok, let's find you some place to sleep."

\-------------------------

Every time Sam dozes off, he jerks awake immediately, so Dean comes up with a genius idea: get drunk.

"Hey, I got my brother back. I call that a win. Let's celebrate, Sammy. You'll be ok. Loosen up."

It's almost dawn, when they check into a local motel on the other side of the town. Dean cleans and patches the wound on Sam's forehead, gets some rest when Sam showers. They get the Impala repaired, have a late lunch, pick some clothes for Sam, and go to the bar in the evening just as they planned.

Dean orders each piece of the pies of the five recommended flavors, of course, and some beer and whisky. He enjoys his pies while urging Sam to drink more.

"Let me guess, they have the best pie in town?" Sam gulps down a cup of whisky, eyeing the colorful dishes with amazement.

"You know me, Sammy." Dean says with a mouthful of pumpkin pie. He digs a small piece of his pie, holds the fork toward Sam's mouth," here, have a taste."

Dean watches slack-jawed as the pie disappears behind Sam's teeth, his lips brushing away the crumbs left on the fork, his tongue cleaning more crumbs on his lips, leaving a trail of gloss.

"It's good." Sam comments.

"Well, it's all mine." Dean digs another piece of the pie into his own mouth," it doesn't help you get drunk. No pies for you anymore."

"You're gonna eat them all..." There's something else catching Sam's attention. Dean follows Sam's eyes and sees a man and a woman stride toward them, whom Dean recognizes as Lisa's neighbor, Sid and his wife.

"I can't believe you! Are you cheating on Lisa? Is that why you were fighting last night?" Sid's wife stops at their table, confronts Dean, while Sid stands behind his wife, trying to stop whatever she's going to do.

"No, we broke up."

"You left Lisa for this guy?"

"No! He's my brother!"

That's when Dean receives a cupful of whisky on his face, and Sid's wife yells at Dean's face," brother my ass! That's how you look at your brother? I can smell your lust from outside the bar!"

"If I were you, I'd stop drinking and start checking what's inside the drink!" Sid's wife says to Sam while being dragged by Sid, and she keeps yelling until they disappear from the bar," don't let me see you again, or I swear..."

What just happened?

What makes it worse is that Sam is roaring with laughter, hand clapping the table, tears forming in his eyes.

"You think this is funny?" Dean swallows the whisky went in his mouth, then wipes his face with his palm, then a napkin.

When they leave the bar some time later, Dean feels a little light headed, and Sam is totally drunk. He winds up finishing half of the pies, and throwing all of it up before getting into the passenger seat of the Impala.

Sam still isn't sleeping, may be afraid of what he would see, if he shuts his eyes long enough, so Dean offers," you know, it'll get better if you tell somebody."

"Nothing you don't already know... same old... routine torture... I'll be ok...eventually..." Sam slurs, pulling at his shirt to let more cool air access the burning skin underneath.

Dean drives them back to the motel, helps Sam get on his bed, watches as his unbalanced body hits the mattress, bounces a little.

"You know... I always wanted you too..." Dean never thought of the possibility that Sam wasn't off limit to him, but Sam kissed him, now he can't get it out of his mind.

"Yeah... right... says the guy whose childhood dream was being a hero and having sex with all kinds of pretty girls he saved."

Not... wrong. Dean told Sam so when they were kids. He falls face down on the other bed, and is numb of the passage of time. It could be five minutes, could be five hours, could be a blink of eye. Dean awakens in a silent room, has no idea what brings him back from sleep, so he looks over to the other bed instinctively.

Sam is soundly asleep, for a while, then his body goes rigid. His eyes shoot open. He pants and breathes in lungful after lungful of air, like he is suffocating. Sam looks over to the other bed instinctively, too overwhelmed to notice Dean is pretending asleep. He sits up, legs curling up to his stomach, muffling his cry in his arms," Dean... I'm so sorry..."

Dean knows it's not just about Lisa. He wonders what kind of torture they did to Sam, that would make him say sorry to Dean. In the same time, Dean has a strange feeling that he forgot something very important, like something is tampering with his memory.

\----------------------

Sam's emotions are unsteady. He's easily irritated and always on edge of break down. Sometimes he can't concentrate. Sometimes in the night his eyes snap open, breathing heavy. But he is getting better, slowly but surely.

They killed a killer Sam before he threatened to slit Dean's throat. Sam shot another florist Sam before he offered to help out. In west Virginia, they got rid of a teacher Sam and a happily married Sam.

A month after they hit the road, in Atlanta.

Dean finds a 10-year-old Sammy in a back alley. A gang of wild cats is robbing a half-eaten sandwich from Sammy's hand when Sammy spots Dean, and runs crying into Dean's arms with cat scratches all over his face and arms.

"Dean! Dean! Dean!" Sammy looks at Dean like Dean is the center of the whole universe, his smile all sweet and innocent.

Dean gives Sammy a tight hug, takes a good look at him, who's wearing a ragged, oversized T-shirt, a pair of equally frayed pants, old sneakers, with scratches and bruises all over his skinny body.

"Ok, let's get you something to eat, then find something nice for you to wear, after you take a nice warm shower. Sounds good?" Dean is on his knees, cooing, like Sammy is an injured little puppy, and Sammy throws his whole body weight at Dean like a koala, hugs him tight and refuses to let go.

Dean lifts Sammy with his forearm under Sammy's thighs, realizes a minute too late that another Sam is pointing a gun at them. Dean turns them a little, using his own body as shield, and bares his teeth at the other Sam." Are you even a human!? What kind of a monster kills such a little kid!"

"He's a fragment of ME! I'm putting him back in myself! Dean, we are on a job! We don't have time to babysit!" Sam is grumpy, still mad at Dean's pranks and jokes that are meant to cheer him up.

"Come on. I promise I'll take care of him. I'll walk him, feed hi..."

"I'm not your fucking pet!"

May be not a good time for joking. Dean swears that he can feel the bullet brushing through his ear.

"Seriously!? You really shot at me! Oh, I'm telling you that I'm keeping him! Or I kill you and carry on with him. Your choice!" Dean threatens, even he isn't the one with a gun in hand.

Sam keeps staring at Dean a little longer, with the expression of anger and annoyance on his face. Then he lowers the gun, turns and walks toward the Impala not far away, slamming the door as heavy as possible when he gets into the back seat, like a sullen teenage wants to make a point.

Dean takes that as a YES, carries Sammy to the other side of the back door. He can sense Sam's annoyance when he helps little Sammy seat beside Sam, figures that Sam probably assumed he would put Sammy in shotgun, which is kind of against traffic rules. So Dean smirks at Sam and tells him to take care of his little brother.

They pick their dinner and some clothes for Sammy on the way to the nearest motel. After Sammy had a nice shower, Dean puts a kiss on his forehead, carries him to his bed, feeds him greasy fast food for dinner.

"What, are you gonna sleep with him? " Sam perches on the other bed.

"What, are you jealous?" Dean retorts, then tries to justify himself," We slept together some times when you were this age."

"Not when you are at this age and know how I feel about you."

"A little self-conscious there, huh?"

"Yeah, because somebody can't quit bragging about it every chance he gets."

Dean ignores Sam and snuggles with his sweet little Sammy anyway. They are watching animal planet while Sammy falls asleep using Dean's belly as pillow. Hours later, a high pitched scream comes out of Sammy. He thrashes, cries, and screams, loud enough for the whole motel to hear. Dean has to cover his mouth to stop him, before anyone decides to call 911. He manages his voice as calmly as he could," Sammy...Sammy...I'm sorry, could you hear me?"

Sammy is locked up in his own hell, can't hear or see anything right in front of him. He keeps struggling for a while, then starts sobbing. Dean experimentally lets go of him, and hears him repeating," De...Dean...I'm so... so...sorry... Dean... I'm so... sorry..."

For what?

The question is caught up in Dean's throat, because the one apologized to him disappeared after Sam put a bullet in his head.

"You had your change 17 years ago."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you accusing that I wasn't there for you?" while all Dean did was spending his entire childhood protecting Sam. It's like his one job, ingrained in his soul." I was there. I was always there for you when we were kids, aren't I? You are the one can't stop running away from me!"

"No! You were not there! Dean! You died the second you made up your damn mind throwing away your life and become a hunter! You were drowning yourself in booze and girls even when you were a kid! You never put up a fight against ... the twisted life Dad planed for us!"

"Seriously? That's what you think!? Are you seriously so selfish to think you have to fight against a life of saving people's lives? I didn't fight because there's nothing to fight for!"

"Yes! There is! You fight! For yourself! You don't surrender yourself for anybody or anything! You don't give up, no matter what!" Sam shouts and shoves at Dean's chest, knocking him down on bed.

Dean senses there's something else, he can see Sam bite down the word on his tongue. Sam is running away from whatever he's hiding while he accuses Dean didn't fight.

Dean didn't realize he laughed until he hears himself. It takes him a minute to notice the sound was coming out from his own lips. His reaction is all messed up, because this isn't funny at all." I'm sorry that you don't like the life Dad planed for us. You know what? After all we've been through, you deserve to live the life you want. Azazel's dead. The world's saved. After we put you back, we go our separate ways. You can find a girl to marry, live the apple-pie life you always want..."

By the time Dean finishes his words, Sam has started sobbing. He grips Dean's shirt knuckles white, as if Dean's words were a sword poking at his heart. Funny thing, Dean was meant to hurt himself and set Sam free once and for all. Dean's eyes stop at Sam's trembling lips briefly, before he gives in to the ridiculous idea of sealing those lips with his own. It's ridiculous because it feels right, while in every sense it shouldn't be.

"Just say no." Dean tells Sam, but doesn't really mean it. Giving Sam no time to react, he captures those delicate lips for a few seconds, before Sam bites down on his lower lip, and he bites Sam's back instinctively. The coppery blood between the kiss makes Dean feel a little drunk. He can feel Sam's hands on his chest, before he lets Sam shove him away.

Dean's back hits the bed again. He watches Sam looking back at him, surprised, puzzled, troubled, and thank God, no more tears. Sam is freezing in front of Dean, unable to form any words, so Dean gets up, approaches him step by step, adjusting their position a little, before maneuvers Sam sitting down on the edge of his bed. Their eyes keep locking at each other, and Dean keep his move slow and deliberate, unbuttoning Sam's shirt from his collar downward: the first one, the second one, the third one...

"Dean. No."

"Sorry, I lied. It's time for you to learn to stop running from me." ignoring Sam's hand on his wrist attempting to stop him, Dean rejects Sam's rejection, and is pleased to see the accusation of Dean's betrayal on Sam's face. Dean gives Sam a mischievous smile, before lifting the hem of Sam's shirt, through Sam's head, until it's caught on Sam's wrists. He uses the clothes to make a quick knot there, tying Sam's hands together.

Dean shoves Sam back when he struggles to stand up, hard enough that Sam's back bounces on the mattress. He follows, crawling on top of Sam, one hand pinning Sam's hands above his head, the other caressing the broad chest and sturdy abdomen that he always wondered what it would feel like if he put his hand on it without any cloth in between, feeling the quivering skin under his fingers that fulfills his curiosity.

The satisfaction gives Dean back the ability to think, making him aware of the fact that he's kind of forcing himself on his little brother, and already went way too far. So why stop now, right? He blames Sam for this anyway. Ever since he knew Sam's feeling toward him, it's just too weird to pick up one-night stands when Sam's around, and he's not ready to not having sex for the rest of his life. Besides, it's not like he had enough sex with Lisa either, that life didn't have enough adrenaline: no weapons, no travel, no saving people, no thrill of the possibility of being killed before he kills all those sons of bitches, which makes him feel alive; there's only tedious work, empty happiness, and the awful feeling Sam left for him, making him scream in his dream. Dean has a strange feeling, like something's blocking his thought. He can't remember any of his nightmares, and when did he stop having those nightmares?

His thought is interrupted by Sam's attempt of escape. Sam rolls on all fours, and is crawling away from him. Having the reflection of a cat, Dean grabs Sam's belt from behind and drags him back under himself, like a cat playing with his prey.

Dean knows that Sam is playing dead, that he'll bail every chance he gets, but at least Sam's not fighting, and it makes it easier for Dean to get rid of all their clothes except for the one on Sam's wrists of course. Dean notices he doesn't have any lube or condom in his duffle bag, and he knows there isn't any in Sam's bag either. This one's on Sam too, because if it weren't for him... whatever, there's not enough blood in Dean's brain right now, and he's not going to find some substitute while leaving his prey unwatched.

Dean pushes his index and middle finger through Sam's lips and teeth, stirring them inside Sam's mouth, then pushes deeper, feeling the molars and the back of Sam's tongue, until Sam gags. Dean then sticks the saliva coated middle finger into Sam's ass, one long push, forcing a grunt out of Sam.

By the time Dean is able to stuff four fingers in Sam's ass, Sam's tongue is swelling from being pulled and rubbed by Dean's fingers, Sam's cock is hard against his own belly, coated with pre-come and Dean's saliva, because Dean is curious what it would taste like, and it's bitter and salty, with a hint of coppery.

There's a resistance when Dean lines up and pushes in, so he shoves Sam's thighs further apart and pushes in, inch by inch, until the full length of his cock is buried deep inside of the warmth of his brother's ass. He pauses for a while, suppressing the urge of coming right away. It's been too long for him being inside a warm body.

Dean sets a steady pace then, pulling back until only the tip of his cock was inside, then plunges back in. Sam follows soon after, pushing back, meeting Dean's thrusts half way, creating a sweet friction, his legs undulating at either side of Dean's body dragged by the roll of his hips, perfect little moans tickling Dean's heart, making it flutter.

"Enjoy yourself much, honey?" Dean lowers his body, looking Sam in the eye," how many guys have you been with?"

Dean and Dad visited Sam some times when he was at Stanford, from a distance without Sam noticing. There's one time, Dean caught a guy putting his paw on his brother's hip. He didn't know what Dad thought of it. He made an excuse getting rid of Dad, tailed Sam for three days, and got to see that guy fuck Sam in his dorm room. Sam told that guy that it was his first time with a guy. Dean felt stupid and got lost and got drunk.

"Couple guys back in college. Wasn't counting." Sam pants.

There's a burn in Dean's stomach, makes him bite down on Sam's shoulder, also makes him want to tear that flesh apart.

Sam winces, gasps," I was pretty desperate to get you out of my mind, but I can't... I think about you, some time, when I'm alone, touching myself... think of the things you do to those girls..."

"Want to be my girl... Sammy? You know, you could've just told me." Dean is sucking kisses on Sam's clavicle, getting the taste he craves, while keeping grinding his cock into Sam's tunnel lazily, pubic hair being mussed against Sam's balls.

"I'm still not sure I want to do this with you... Dean...this is..."

This is wrong. This is incest. This is messed up. They don't need this to make their relationship more complicated. Dean gives Sam a deep kiss to stop him, sucking at his abused tongue and broken lip, before he grabs Sam's waist, giving it to him in earnest, pounding roughly, making quick and harsh slapping sounds every time their hips meet. The bed is creaking under their love making. The air is filled with their joined musk.

Dean's thrusts grow erratic, and he can feel Sam's losing control too: his movement becomes uncoordinated and more desperate, almost writhing. Dean fights for dominance, grabbing Sam's hips, fingers digging into Sam's hipbone, not letting him move even an inch. Dean's cock is ramming into Sam's hole forcefully, trying to get to an impossible depth. He can barely register Sam's whimper. Dean bears down and bites on Sam's neck, hard enough to break the skin, while coming deep inside his brother.

Dean's senses slowly get back.

Sam is begging, protesting, legs kicking. It takes Dean a minute before he can lift himself, easing out his cock, still half hard. He thinks he'll blow Sam or do something else to help him out, and sure isn't expecting Sam to follow him, back arching, cock twitching between their joined bellies, sending hot sperm on their skin, while his entrance sucking little kisses on the tip of Dean's cock.

Dean kisses Sam, swallowing the broken little moans of his own name.

\----------------------

Dean wakes in morning light, feels well slept and in a mysterious good mood. He turns over, trying to get a better position, surprised to see Sam's enlarged face right in front of him. The memory of last night rushes in.

Sam's eye lashes quiver before those eyes leisurely open. Dean can see the exact moment Sam registers what is happening, and the next moment, Sam puts a quick kiss on Dean's lips.

"Looks like I don't have to worry about you bailing on me." Dean's voice is husky. He wants to roll on top of Sam, to be inside of him, to reclaim him, but is stopped by Sam's broken lip and neck, and the dark marks scattered between his neck and shoulders. He should give Sam a break.

"I'm gonna take a shower." Dean gets out of the bed, walks through the pile of their clothes that is covering the floor.

"Dean." Sam stops him, grabs Dean's hand and pulls him back until Dean is facing the bed, and can see that Sam's hands are still tied up together, and there's dried come on Sam's belly and on the inside of his thighs.

Sam gets on his knees, bents over, sucks a mark on Dean's hipbone. "No fair only you get to mark me." He explains, then falls down on bed again, snuggles under their blanket that is stinking with sex, ignores Dean's throbbing hard-on he initiated.

"No, no, no fair you leave me like this after what you just did to me. You are having the shower with me!" Dean pries Sam out of bed and drags him into bathroom.

\------------------------

Several days later, they are heading Pennsylvania.

"I think someone's been hunting my fragments." Sam looks toward Dean, hand rubbing at the bite mark on the side of his neck involuntarily," the one we are after has gone, there're only twenty-two of them now."

"What?" frowning, Dean meets Sam's eyes," who's doing that?"

Sam shrugs," actually, they have been disappearing on their own since I came back, I assumed some of them were taken out by other hunters or died in accidents. But in the past few days, almost 30 of them disappeared. Dean, I think whatever's after them will get to me soon."

"Ok, then let's throw 'em a welcome party."

They choose a deserted apartment on the outskirt of the town, draw angel and demon wards all over the place, also set up a few traps for human, after calling Bobby, checking the internet and coming up with nothing.

They camp in the apartment. Gradually, Sam notices his hunter is saving him for the last, and when he announces he's the last one piece left, there's a blue light flashing in Dean's eyes.

The memory rushes back into Dean.

He was in the Cage with Sam.

Dean remembers Lucifer controlling Sam's body like a puppet: he made Sam knock his head on the floor, until it cracking open, until his brain smashing with his scalp like pudding; he made Sam pull out his own finger and toe nails, peel off his own skin, dig out his own eyes, cut off his own ears and tongue; he made Sam cut himself open, dance his organs out... and Michael was there putting Sam back every time.

For some reason, they couldn't touch Dean, so they tortured Sam in front of Dean, until Dean said "Yes" to Michael.

Dean remembers the day he was finally defeated. Sam thrust a knife into his own chest, cut it open, with twisted face and uncontrollable screams, tears and sweats. Then he dug his beating heart out, held it toward Dean on his trembling hands, with his teeth clenched, body drenched in his own blood. Dean said "No", because that's what Sam had been screaming all the time, because he couldn't give up when Sam's still fighting, but it only made Sam smash his own heart. When Michael put Sam back, and Lucifer made Sam pull his hair out, handful after handful, in his screams, with scalp stuck on the roots of the hair, Dean finally said "Yes". He watched the light of hope, of strength, of faith, disappear from Sam's eyes. That's when he realized that he finished the job that Lucifer and Michael had been failing for more than probably a hundred years: he broke Sam.

One more ironic thing is that Lucifer was actually trying to get Sam back to earth, like they promised, when Michael killed Lucifer and Sam. Dean has no idea how Sam's still alive. Maybe their power got mixed up somehow.

Dean doesn't know how much time passed or where he is. It feels like hell, because he is strangling Sam and can't control his muscles. He can hear his own voice without speaking," you ruined everything! Now I'll never see him again! You never do what you are told to do! You are the ultimate failure! He left because of you whining creature!"

Dean tries to take control of his body, but the harder he tries, the larger the smile on his face. Michael wearing Dean's body takes the gun from Sam's hand, points it at Sam's head, then changes his mind, points it toward Sam's stomach.

"I know how to make you suffer the most, Dean. You'll watch your darling little Sammy die, slowly and painfully, and live the rest of your pathetic life knowing that you are the one killed him. You'll suffer after you die, because heaven's door is forever closed to you two. you'll burn out your souls on earth, or rot in the darkest pit of hell." Michael shoots three times before abandoning Dean's useless body.

Sam falls like a rag doll.

"Sammy! Sam! Can you hear me? Sammy! Stay with me!" as soon as Dean is able to move, he scrambles to Sam's side.

Sam is conscious, and in pain, just like Michael promised. Dean rips Sam's shirt apart, puts the cloth on the wounds and directs Sam's hands to put pressure on it, while fumbling for his cell phone to call 911.

"Hey, Dean? You want to know why I left for Stanford?" Sam starts, while they are waiting for the ambulance.

"It's not funny, Sammy." Dean is covering his hands on Sam's, but the blood keeps soaking the cloth.

Sam makes a weak smile, continues anyway," you know, there's a time, you would go hunting with Dad... when I was alone by myself, I would check all the information I could get my hands on: TV, radio, newspaper... in case you two ended up as two John Does... especially when you failed to call and check in on me."

Dean didn't know how it feels for real until Dad left him, and the first thing he did was speeding frantically to Stanford where his brother was. He was driving by the fear of having to burn Dad's dead body himself, the fear of being left alone, the fear of his own death. He wasn't thinking straight, not until parked by his brother's apartment, that he remembered that his brother had moved on. Sam built a life for himself that Dean shouldn't disturb. He panicked and ended up breaking into Sam's apartment in the midnight.

"I know you are scared, but... come on, I'm with you now..." Dean can't lose Sam again.

"You and Dad pretty much wrote your own death script, and threw it at my face over and over whenever you bled out unconscious. And us... as long as we are together, you can never find your own happiness, and I can never be my own person... I don't really know, I wanted to do the right things... actually, I was dreaming of one day I'd bail you and Dad out of jail and rub it on your stupid faces."

Dean can see through Sam's eyes, through his own tear, there're too many things Sam wants to tell him, that may cause them eternity and require every language on earth.

"Dean. I've been fighting my whole life. I fought to be a hunter like you and Dad, then I ended up in Stanford. I fought to revenge Jessica and Mom, Dad died, I died on you, and you went to hell for me. I fought to bring you back like you did for me, I tried everything I can, I really tried, but I failed... so I fought to revenge you..."

"Sammy, please... Just stop it, stop talking. I get it. I know, Ok?" Dean can't stop the tears falling out of Sam's eyes, and Sam continues," not until you stand in front of me again, alive and intact, that I realized I screwed up again, big time. I fought the evil inside me, I fought to fight with you, I failed again and again, but finally, I could give you the one thing you... I always wanted for you — a life just for yourself, a life without all the burdens and obligations, a life you can be happy and safe..."

"It's not true... Sam... Please..." the cloth is dripping blood now, Michael must have hit some vital organ.

"Lucifer and Michael found a way... every time I screamed your name, they got a chance to drag you there, using you to crack the cage. I... just kept failing. It's too much pain. I was scared. I was tired. I just wanted to disappear, but they kept bringing me back... I couldn't... Dean, I'm so sorry, I was never meant to break into your life again... I was never meant to put you in that position... I was never meant to hurt you like this again..."

Sam is begging for Dean's forgiveness, no, begging for Dean's permission to let go, to put an end to his pain and his weary. But Dean can't give him that now. Not this time. Dean knows now, as long as he doesn't give up, Sam will fight with him.

"Sammy, don't leave me like this. You said you have been fighting your whole life. Don't stop now. Fight with me. You hear me? It's just three bullets. We survived worse." Dean wants to brush away the tears on Sam's face, only leaves a smear of blood.

The siren of ambulance is getting closer. Sam struggles to keep his eyes open and mumbles," never stopped..."

\----------------------

A year later.

Christmas.

Sam wakes up alone on a king sized bed. He feels an emptiness under his arm, where Dean's warmth has been just minutes ago. There's water running in the bathroom, indicates that Dean is having a shower.

Sam gets up to make coffee and breakfast for them, walking by the Christmas tree that they decorated together a couple days ago, with gift boxes under it. They are in the rented house of this month, burned some cursed objects a few days ago, and doesn't have a job on hand right now.

Dean's spirit is high, when he bites a mouthful of bacon from Sam's fork, and demands a morning hug," you ready to open the presents?"

"If you give me panties again, I'm gonna kill you for real this time." Sam lets Dean drag him to the couch.

There are four boxes, two of which is Dean's gifts for Sam, all on the coffee table now. Sam opens his gifts: a tablet he wants for a while, and a shuriken Dean wants for a very long time.

"Fine." Sam caves and hands the shuriken over to Dean," you can use it, if you can hit the topper star from here."

Dean's face lights up instantly. He never thought he'd actually get a chance, so he warms up a little, throws the shuriken, and murders their Christmas tree. The shuriken sticks into the wall, when the top half of the Christmas tree falls on the floor, in the rattles of the ornaments and rain of the leaves. The Christmas miracle is that the lights are still on.

"Merry Christmas!" Dean smiles sheepishly. The shuriken goes in their chunk anyway.

Sam's gifts for Dean are a bag of dried vegetables and the amulet that Dean once threw away, because it feels foolish to treasure a present that wasn't meant for him in the first place. Dean knows he doesn't have the full story about Sam, still, he is jealous of every moment of happiness Sam feels without him.

"Wow, the amulet, you really like putting things on my neck, Sammy." Dean's voice is a little surly, and when Sam wants to say something, he pushes Sam down on the couch, sitting on Sam's laps, hands cupping Sam's face," I don't need anything to remind me how I feel about you, Sam. Neither do you. I don't need any explanation from you. I don't need any vow from you. Because nothing matters if you are not with me. You are my heaven, Sammy. Otherwise, it's just a name of a meaningless place, I'd want nothing to do with. So don't you ever think there's a chance I'll set you free ever again, and don't ever push me to other girls and think I'd want anything but you. It's always been you and me, and always will be. You are my strength, my anchor, my faith, and please let me do the same for you."

Sam feels like Dean is touching his bare heart. He is basking in the warmth of Dean's enormous love. He shivers, and craves for every little touch, every kiss, or anything he can get from Dean, even just a moan of his own name.

"This will be our present for our car." Dean throws the amulet on the coffee table, bents down to claim the one thing he really wants.


End file.
